


As Long as We're Together

by chucknovak



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucknovak/pseuds/chucknovak
Summary: from this tumblr prompt: "okay so I’m watching IT right now for 17th time and i had an epiphany. idk if this is already an idea out there but i just pasted the scene where Eddie encounters pennywise at the well House. do you think you could write a one shot where right after Eddie escapes, he bikes straight to richie’s house for comfort ? ik this is probably an idea out there in the tumblr world bUT I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE REALLY CUTE. thank you for coming to my TED talk, if anyone reads this." (bi-beverie on tumblt btw lmao this is like my 7000th plug jdfhsljkljsk)





	As Long as We're Together

Eddie’s legs quickly became sore from how hard he was running, sneakers slapping harshly against the pavement with every step, but he barely felt it. His chest was on fire, and his heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out. The wind whipping past Eddie felt like fingers down his arms, breath in his ear; it made him feel sick. His legs, protesting from years of disuse, managed to carry him all the way past his house to a blue Victorian. The sight made it a little easier for him to breathe, despite how overworked his lungs were. He made his way up the porch on wobbly legs and rang the doorbell, near collapse when Maggie Tozier answered the door.

“Eddie?” she asked, concern flooding her blue eyes. “Are you all right, honey?”

“Is Richie home?” Eddie managed to rasp out, his chest heaving.

“He’s in the basement,” she answered, stepping aside and letting Eddie in. “Do you want a glass of water? You look a little beat.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie called over his shoulder, already halfway to the basement steps. “Thank you, Mrs. Tozier!” With that he was bounding down the basement stairs.

Richie was sitting on the floor, video game controller clutched in his hands, neck craned up at the television, his giant glasses reflecting the light of the screen. His head whipped toward the stairs at the sound of Eddie’s hurried steps. “Eddie Spaghetti!” he exclaimed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said weakly, frozen at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn’t quite sure why he was here, and he was still pretty terrified, which didn’t help clear his mind. He kept feeling like if he turned around… it would still be there, that _thing_.

“Aw, you know you love it,” Richie winked. “So. You come over for a reason? Or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty?” Eddie blushed furiously at that.

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” Eddie grumbled, making his legs move as he walked over to Richie. They practically sighed in relief as he took a seat on the floor next to his best friend. Eddie played with the zipper of his fanny pack; it was still open, and missing a pill bottle, which made Eddie’s heart start up again. _Ma’s not gonna be happy,_ he thought to himself. _God, she’s gonna cry and scream and have a whole fucking fit._ The thought was scary, but not as scary as the memory of where his pills were, why they were currently lying in the middle of Neibolt Street. His breathing became a thin whistle, his entire body trembling.

“Eds?” Eddie’s head snapped up at the sound of his name, and he found Richie’s magnified eyes narrowed as he looked at Eddie. “You okay? I made a joke about your mom and you didn’t even punch me.” Eddie wanted to respond, wanted to yell at him, but he could feel his throat closing. He reached for his inhaler, but even the sight of his fanny pack had tears blurring his vision. “Whoa, whoa, hey, it’s okay, I’ll get it,” Richie rushed to say. He pushed Eddie’s hands out of the way and retrieved his inhaler. Eddie opened his mouth, letting Richie press his inhaler into his hand and guide it to his face. Eddie inhaled, grateful for the medicinal taste on his tongue. Richie had one hand on Eddie’s and the other cupping Eddie’s jaw. His hands were a little sticky, but Eddie found that he didn’t mind; they were warm, and they helped ground him. Eddie pulled the inhaler away from his lips, steadying his breathing on his own. He felt hot tear tracks running down his cheeks and wiped them away furiously. Richie slid his hand away from Eddie’s cheek, resting it on his shoulder. Eddie missed his touch. “You okay?” Richie asked in a voice so soft Eddie practically couldn’t recognize it. “What was all that about?”

Eddie considered telling him, but the thought had his throat closing again. “Tell me about your day,” Eddie said suddenly, the words tripping over one another in their rush to get out. Richie’s brow furrowed, and he looked like he was about to say something, but Eddie cut him off. “Any good chucks today?” he asked, his voice still shaking. The confusion on Richie’s face smoothed out, some expression Eddie couldn’t place passing over his wide eyes before he beamed at Eddie.

“Finally picking up on my genius vocabulary, I see,” he bragged before launching into an account of his day. Every word calmed Eddie’s breathing, every wild gesture and stupid voice dried Eddie’s tears. Before long he was even laughing, smacking Richie’s shoulder half-heartedly. “So you really came over just to hear about my day?” Richie asked, toeing the line between humorous and serious.

Eddie shrugged, already beginning to shrink in on himself again. “I just wanted to see you,” he said defensively, wishing he’d worded it differently as a shit-eating, bucked-tooth grin spread across Richie’s face.

“I’m pretty irresistible, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, to lice maybe,” Eddie scoffed. But then he was thinking about lice, and things crawling on him, _inside_ of him, and he started freaking out again. What if that thing had touched him? What if he was infected?

“Eds?”

“I saw something,” Eddie managed to croak out.

“Congratulations on not being blind? Although considering your present company, you’re kinda just bragging.” Eddie shot Richie a look that shut him up.

“You know the house on Neibolt Street?”

“The abandoned one?” Eddie nodded. “Yeah, that place is fuckin’ Creep City.”

“Well, I passed it on my way home, and…” Eddie trailed off, his chest already tightening again. For once in his life Richie was quiet, patiently waiting for Eddie to continue. “I saw this, this man, I guess, but he-” Eddie sucked in a breath sharply, feeling himself getting to the verge of tears again. He gripped the hem of his shorts so hard his knuckles turned white. “He was sick, like, fucking _rotting._ ” He trained his eyes on Richie’s gangly, bent knees in an attempt to ground himself, unable to look into his friend’s eyes as his own began to fill with tears again. “I dropped my pills, and then he just fucking _appeared_ out of _nowhere._ And I ran, but h-he _chased_ me.” Eddie’s resolve broke on the word “chased,” and he began sobbing in earnest. Richie froze for a moment before pulling Eddie into his arms. The angle was a bit awkward, as they were both sitting cross-legged, their knees banging together. Eddie crawled into Richie’s lap, throwing his shame out the window and following the instincts that told him to seek the comfort Richie was offering. Eddie was both surprised and grateful when Richie wrapped his arms even more tightly around Eddie’s torso without cracking a joke. Eddie burrowed his face into Richie’s shoulder, fingers gripping the front of his shirt. He thought that maybe he should be embarrassed, but Richie was pulling him in, not pushing him away, and instead of feeling embarrassed he felt _safe_ , finally.

“Did he hurt you?” Richie asked. His voice sent chills down Eddie’s spine; Eddie had only seen Richie genuinely mad once or twice in their six years of friendship, but it was so chilling that he’d memorized what it sounded like, and it sounded like that. Eddie shook his head.

“N-no, I got away.” An image popped into Eddie’s head then, a bunch of balloons in an unnatural triangle formation, none of them bopping or blowing in the wind. Then, behind the balloons-

But no, Richie wouldn’t believe that. If Eddie mentioned the clown Richie would think he’d been joking, or that he was crazy. He might even get mad at him, and Eddie didn’t want to do anything that would make Richie stop holding him.

“Damn right you got away from that fucking creep,” Richie said. Eddie thought he was trying to sound light-hearted, proud even, but there was still that harshness in his voice, that anger. “No fucking creep-ass hobo is gonna touch _my_ Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie’s arms tightened around Eddie, and Eddie kind of felt like he was melting into Richie. It felt nice. Richie took a breath and said in a voice much closer to his normal, jovial tone, “I swear Eds, you gotta go out for track, you’d knock ‘em dead.” Eddie’s chest tightened again, but this time it was different. _My Eddie. Eds._ He curled further into Richie, sniffling; Richie was a bony motherfucker, but Eddie had never been more comfortable. “Hey,” Richie whispered in Eddie’s ear, “he can’t get you, okay? You’re safe now. He’s never gonna bother you again.” This was another voice Eddie had only heard a handful of times, but it was a voice he liked much better than the angry one. It was a voice Richie never used around the others, Eddie had only ever heard it when he and Richie were alone. It soothed him, and soon his sobs were nothing more than small hiccups.

He reluctantly lifted his head from Richie’s shoulder, wiping at his eyes. “Shit, I got snot on your shirt,” he laughed weakly. Richie just shrugged.

“This shirt’s seen worse,” he grinned.

“Ugh, you’re gross,” Eddie groaned, sharing Richie’s smile. He didn’t want to leave Richie’s lap, but he felt like he had to, so he did.

“You know you love me,” Richie winked.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, suddenly exhausted. That wiped the grin off Richie’s face, leaving him with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“I’m uh, I’m glad you came over,” Richie said. His hand were in his lap, but his Band-Aid covered knees were bumping against Eddie’s, so he was close enough that he could run his fingers over Eddie’s calves just by stretching them a little bit. Eddie got a weird feeling in his chest when Richie did that, but it felt kind of nice. “You know, you’re always safe here. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” Eddie nodded, taking Richie’s hands in his own. His stomach fluttered as he did so, but Richie held on tight, and Eddie didn’t feel like pulling away.

“Thanks, Rich.”

“Any time.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you either, you know.”

“Aw, Eds, my fierce little protector, you’re too sweet.” Eddie rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let go of Richie’s hands. “You okay?” Richie asked after a moment of silence.

“I think so,” Eddie said, deflating a bit. “I’m just- what if I’m sick now, you know? What if he did touch me, or what if it was airborne?”

“Well if it’s airborne then you just got me sick,” Richie joked, “so I guess we’ll rot together, asshole.” He grinned, but it didn’t do anything to calm Eddie’s fears. Picking up on this, he added, “Eds, you’re not sick, I promise.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I _do._ ”

“No, you _don’t._ ”

Something Eddie couldn’t quite name passed over Richie’s eyes. Then, suddenly, Richie’s hands were back on Eddie’s face, and he was pressing his candy-sweet lips to Eddie’s. It was brief, and their lips didn’t quite line up right, but Eddie melted into immediately anyway.

“There,” Richie said when he pulled away, his cheeks dusted pink. “That’s how certain I am that you’re not sick.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie mumbled, but he couldn’t help the smile that played across his still-tingling lips, and he took Richie’s hands in his own again.

“No, I’m a doctor,” Richie corrected with a huge grin.

“I’ve never had a doctor do that before.”

“I’d sure hope not,” Richie said, making Eddie giggle. “Was that… okay?” Richie asked, his smile faltering. It came back full force when Eddie nodded. “Awesome! It was… kind of awesome.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. They looked at each other for a long moment, playing with each other’s fingers.

“You wanna play?” Richie asked, breaking the silence as he nodded toward the TV. “I can plug in another controller.”

“Can I just watch you play?” Eddie asked.

“Definitely!” Richie nodded enthusiastically. He turned back to the television, and Eddie nestled in next to him, resting his head on Richie’s snot-free shoulder.

“You know, you shouldn’t sit so close to the screen,” Eddie said. “That’s probably why you’re so fucking blind.”

“No, I’m so fucking blind because I’ve blinded by your beauty so many times,” Richie grinned down at him, kissing the top of his head. He then launched into a story about how the round was going as he began to play again, and Eddie was happy to settle in and listen to his spiel.

As he thought about it, Eddie knew Richie was right; he _was_ safe, and so was Richie, as long as they were together.


End file.
